There's One In Every Family
by mandaree1
Summary: The Corduroy brothers sent a tree crashing down on the house. Again. Wendy's stuck juggling everyone's problems, including her own. Again.


**Title: There's One In Every Family**

 **Summary: The Corduroy brothers sent a tree crashing down on the house. Again. Wendy's stuck juggling everyone's problems, including her own. Again.**

 **Author's Note: So this occurs in a future where the Pines family saved the world, no one dies, and Dipper and Mabel, after going through and seeing all that, have decided it's in their best interest for both of them to stay in Gravity Falls, and Stan is allowed to run the Mystery Shack. He just doesn't go by Stanford anymore (they don't know Stanley Pines is legally dead. He's just Stan). And he pays rent. (Before anyone says anything, I know that's a lot of optimism I'm spouting here. It's probably not gonna be that pretty. But a writer can hope, right? And bring some happiness amongst this Weirdmaggedon)**

 **...**

There's one in every family.

Not the delinquent good-for-nothing. Not _that_ one. Although there always is a delinquent good-for-nothing in every family- more the one, usually- that nobody ever claims to be kin with.

There is, without fail, always that one person in the family who just doesn't give a darn. Or, at least, they act like they don't. Not in the 'I don't care about you' sort of way, but in the 'been there, done that, bought the t-shirt, sold it to a cheap gift shop and got another one from that one aunt for Christmas (zombie training day, technically, but some of the family still sent gifts), along with a slice of stale fruitcake.' Wendy ate the slice of fruitcake. It's gross, but they tried, you know? A bad stomachache is worth seeing the happy faces, if you ask her.

When she was young, Wendy looked up to that kind of person. She wanted to be all chill and look like she'd done it all. She's wanted that wisdom they always seemed to possess. Nine years later, Wendy _is_ that person. She's also the first to admit she's not at all wise. Not in the way she'd hoped to be. She called that a rip-off.

But, hey. Someone in her family has to be that person. It's, like, a rule. In a family of four, she's the only one with a significant amount of estrogen. It might as well be her. It's imperative to the survival of her sanity.

Of course, everyone's got their limits. Like coming home after a boring last day of school to find a tree dropped on it. Again.

"Seriously?"

"Uh, hey, sis." Her middle brother says. "Don't worry. We got this."

She rubs the bridge of her nose, feeling a headache coming on. "Please tell me I'm not seeing what I think I'm seeing. _Please_ tell me I'm suffering from some sort of delusion; or that I hit my head and I've got a concussion."

"I dunno about the concussion thing," The oldest one says, sounding a bit confused. All three of them have gathered to witness her reaction. "But you're not delusional... I don't think?"

"How did you even pull this off? You shoulda been in school!" She pauses as something else sinks in. "There aren't even any _trees_ this close to the house!"

The middle brother scoffs. "We skipped. Duh."

Her youngest brother speaks up. "We wanted to show dad we could do lumber-jacking stuff on our own. We were doing pretty good-"

"Until you dropped a tree on the house." She finishes wearily. Wendy takes a deep breath. "Nice one."

The smallest and middle brother point accusing fingers at the oldest. "His fault."

The oldest brother squawks in outrage. Wendy levels them a deadpan look.

"You dropped a tree. On our house. Again."

The tallest brother looks at her pleadingly. "You gotta help us, sis. We gotta fix this before dad gets back."

Wendy surveys the damage with a practiced eye. Nope, totaled. They're going to have to redo almost everything. She shakes her head. "Not gonna happen."

"We work fast. We'll get it done. Please?"

"Ugh, fine. But you're telling him what happened." Wendy finds herself a tree that's a decent distance away- one tree on the roof is plenty, thanks- and gets to work. By which she means she makes herself _look_ busy. She realized pretty quick that the best way to avoid her father's wrath (not that she was the one in trouble) is to show him you're getting on top of things.

She should probably tell her brothers that little tidbit, now that she thinks about it. Eh. She's their _sister_ , for pete's sake. It's not her job to make things _easier_ for them. Quite the opposite, really. They'll figure it out eventually.

Lo and behold, the house is still a wreck when Dan gets back. And, lo and behold, he's mad. Wendy has abandoned the tree she was never actually going to chop down and built a campsite.

Usually the boys take one tent while the girl(s) take the other, but her brothers are cowering in terror in the tent that was rightfully hers. Wendy swears she can see it shaking.

Whatever. It's a nice night. The stars are out, and there's a cool breeze blowing. Wendy settles down, leans her head against a stone, pulls her hat over her eyes, and goes to sleep.

The next thing she knows, it's dawn. Literally, dawn. She's used to being up at odd hours, but geez. It's the first day of summer vacation, people! She needs to gather and store her energy for the crazy adventures she's probably going to end up going on.

Huh. Gather and store. Like hibernation. Common sense hibernation.

The smallest brother is prodding her. That's what wakes her up. "Dad's mad."

Wendy feels the need to repeat herself. You know, for effect. "You dropped a tree. On his house. _Of course_ he's mad."

"Yeah, but it's not like that hasn't happened before."

True. Wendy won't lie; she's busted the house once or twice over the years herself. She felt like crud and worked herself to the bone to fix it, but that doesn't change the fact that it happened. She wonders if any other teenagers can say that. Dipper and Mabel, definitely, but they're still technically pre-teens. "Okay, so, no lie? He's probably mad 'cause you skipped school."

"It was the _last day_! Everyone skips the last day!"

Not Wendy. Nope. No siree. She took her spitballs and insults like a true Corduroy. "Do you really think that matters to him?"

They pause. All three of them. They honestly don't seem to have considered it. "So... how do we make it better?"

Magic. An anti-goof-up ray. A time travel device. All good solutions- if you're willing to pay the price. Wendy isn't. "Get to work. Show 'em you're learning from your mistakes, or whatever. Adults eat that kind of thing up."

"But..." The oldest one hesitates, looking unsure. "You'll help, right?"

"I helped with the last one, didn't I?" She gave the barest twitch of her shoulders. "Chill. But I gotta go to work. Hold down the fort until I get back, you hear?"

"You never do any work anyway." One of them grumbles. Wendy flashes him a smile.

"Nope. But I get _paid_ to slack off there. Big difference."

* * *

People always said that high school is supposed to be the golden years of your life. Wendy hates that. It makes her want to punch people. That sounds like a bunch of teen angst, but it was the truth. What did they know about golden years?

What about the kid whose parents suck, or his classmates suck, or both suck? High school isn't _that_ kid's golden years. Those golden years, if they ever reach them at all, are before or after that. A time before time. A time when they're free.

And what about Stan? Stan is pushing eighty, and, judging by the stories _she's_ heard, he's only just found his golden years. He has a roof over his head, a job that paid and _didn't_ get him run out of town, and some kids to boss around. To him, that's golden. The basement-Stan's years probably arrived before her boss found his way to Gravity Falls, but _after_ he left for college. Those times when he could be his nerdy self and write his nerdy journals and ignore the fact his not-so-nerdy brother still existed and was all alone.

(Stan and Ford have issues, man. Makes Wendy grateful for the life she has now. They might drive her up the wall, but at least her brothers _care_ about her, with no strings attached.)

Soos never left his golden years. The world could be ending (again) and the guy would still find a way to be happy. Mabel used to be like that, but she's had her whole persona turned inside out and beaten in with fire after the whole, you know, apocalypse thing. Her golden years are, right now, probably the times before she handed over the rift.

She'll work through it. Mabel is a tough girl.

Dipper's gonna be one of those guys whose golden years'll hit after he gets his first PhD and can start making official scientific discoveries. She says first because he's also going to be one of those guys who keeps going back to school for more. She'd bet money on it.

And Wendy? She figures she'll hit the years of metal when she finally turns eighteen and can go camping all on her own. No brothers. No worries. Just her, her trusty axe, and the forest. All she has to do is survive; the rest of the time she can slack off in peace.

So, no. She doesn't have some big plan for herself. She doesn't _want_ one, honestly. She likes having an open schedule; it helps her to not miss out on all of life's awesome magical adventures. She can _be_ there for everybody and not have to worry about leaving junk unfinished. Like now, for instance.

"Mabel, it's just a boy. It's not rocket science."

"A totally hot, super sweet, might-possibly-be-the-one, boy!" The girl challenges. They're lounging on the back steps. Mabel is getting herself worked up over some random boy, as she is prone to do, and Wendy is listening to her, as she is prone to do.

Wendy calmly holds up her hands. "Alright, you got me there. But he's still a boy. A maker of testosterone. Right?"

"Well, yeah-"

"Then the rules haven't changed. Just the face and personality."

"Well, yeah, but..." She fiddles with her fingers. "He's got an accent."

"Accents are cool." Wendy agrees. She sits up and puts a hand on her shoulder. "Is everything okay? 'Cause you're freaking out more than you should be." More than normal, at least.

"Yeah, I know." Mabel admits. She still isn't looking at her, which is weird. Usually Mabel is so busy looking at the world around her she doesn't really register the whole picture. Now her gaze is resolutely set on her twitching fingers. "It's just- I don't wanna mess this up, you know? We're still pretty new here."

Man, it's weird to think like that. It feels like Dipper and Mabel have been around for forever. It's hard to believe they've been here for less than two years now. Hard to believe they once had a completely different- _normal_ \- life they _gave up_ to move here so Dipper could become Stan-look-alike's apprentice and so Mabel didn't have to face California alone.

(Wendy doesn't blame her. Accident or not, she would never be able to look _her_ family in the eye after what happened between Mabel and Blendin. Heck, she wouldn't even be able to stay in the same state as them. She'd just up and run away.)

"I don't want to leave a bad first impression, I guess." She says finally. "Seeing how we're staying here and all."

Wendy bites her tongue. Truth be told, their escapades over the summer have already made a bad impression. Not the magic stuff, though. People around here like to avoid thinking about the magic stuff. The family going-outs. You know, with Stan, and Soos, and, well, her. They're to blame. Not to worry, though. Wendy's got a plan to make sure the girls leave her and her brother (Dipper opted to finish middle and high school publicly) alone. It's the girls that would destroy her, honestly. Mabel can beat the snot out of a guy if she has to, no sweat. But she doesn't have a mean bone in her body. Teenage girls are gonna have a hayday if someone doesn't step in.

Wendy may be pretty lax, but she's still a Corduroy. Nobody, and Wendy meant _nobody_ , messed with a Corduroy's peeps. Her dad would be ecstatic if she picked a fight to protect her friends. She's got it covered.

"Mabel, you love everybody. You don't know _how_ to leave a bad first impression."

Mabel doesn't answer. She wraps her arms around her knees. The action is something that signals she's only a few seconds away from going full sweater town on her. Wendy's ready to go get Dipper when she finally asks; "Wendy, am I gonna like high school?"

"Uh," She blinks at her. "You got me, man. You like school?"

"I like _people_."

"Then you'll like high school. It's full of people." They just weren't always very nice. Again, Wendy has a plan. No sweat.

"But are the people going to like _me_?"

That's an easy enough question. "If they don't, then they're crazy."

Mabel nods but doesn't say anything. Her eyes look wet. It suddenly occurs to her that, to a California girl, everyone in small-town Gravity Falls must look crazy. And, to be honest, Wendy can't really argue with that conclusion.

"Wendy, can I... I dunno..." She pauses. "Bug you about girl stuff? Like, _teenage_ girl stuff. You know, when I actually start having those kinds of problems."

Oh. _Oh_. Wendy tends to forget that Mabel, much like her, is living in an all-testosterone environment. Outside of her and her friends, she's surrounded by boys. (Yes, _boys_. Stan and the twin may be mature grown men, but they act like juvenile boys when they're together.) She's the only adult-ish female sounding board she's got.

"Yup."

She pops her head up, eyes sparkling. It makes Wendy feel bad, knowing that, in just a few months from now, her body is going to start turning against her in a hormone-induced rebellion. If anything, she'll probably handle puberty better than her brother will.

"Really?"

"Yup. Don't you worry; you'll get plenty of estrogen breaks. We'll do a weekly thing. Like, an all day thing, since I'm always around for work anyway."

Mabel looks ready to jump up and do a jig. Wendy is honestly surprised she has the self-control _not_ too. "Thanks!" She sits up and adds, almost as an afterthought; "Sorry. I'm getting all emotional over junk. And not even the fun emotions."

"Or the fun junk." She adds. Wendy decides it's safe to start lounging again and sits back in her seat.

"Or the fun junk." Mabel agrees. "Anyway. What's up with you?"

Oh, nothing much. She had to sleep on the ground without a sleeping bag. Her brothers are clinging to her so they had a fallback excuse if something _else_ went wrong. She's trying to physically and emotionally prepare herself to get into a couple of fights with boys and maybe even a few with girls to show her classmates just how serious she is about the _fresh meat_ once school started up again. She's probably going to almost die a gazillion times this summer. Oh, and she'd just spent two hours trying to listen to boy problems and encourage a pre-teen girl.

Wendy slowly shrugs. "Eh, not much. The boys dropped another tree on the house."

Mabel may have been born somewhere else, but she and her brother are made for Gravity Falls. A true California girl, she was sure, would never take such news in stride.

Mabel doesn't even blink. "Which one did it?"

"All _three_ of them. They skipped school to- I don't know- show off their 'man-itude', or whatever."

"Seesh. Did your room get destroyed this time?"

"No clue. Haven't been brave enough to check."

"Oh. Well, if anything _did_ make it, you can always keep it in my room until everything gets fixed."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. What kind of friend would I be if I didn't let you hide stuff under my bed from time to time?"

As it turns out, Wendy's room is the least damaged. She throws everything into a blanket-sack and lugs it over. The space under the bed is too small, so she throws it into the fireworks closest. She reminds herself to make Mabel a thank-you gift later.

* * *

You've got to hand it to Mabel. Wendy mentions that _one_ little tree hit her house and the next day there's a group of people standing around ready to help.

The problem with Corduroy's, she's decided, is that they don't like to fix stuff. They like to _build_ stuff. Her dad had taken an axe- and his anger- to the rest of the house not long after they'd evacuated their stuff, and they're starting from the ground up.

"You guys didn't have to do this. Seriously. We know what we're doing."

"I'm not here to _do_ anything." Stan chips in. "I'm here to yell at people and drink lemonade." He gives her a quick once over, probably noticing her slightly frizzy hair and the fact that the overpowering odor of wood chips is only barely covering the overwhelming stench of teen hormones and sweat. "You know where the extra key is. Try not to make a racket if we're not up." He bares his teeth. "And the little ginger monsters _aren't_ invited."

Wendy nods. "Cool." She knows the old man trusts her not to steal any of his stuff. She also knows he doesn't extend the same trust to her brothers.

Stan may not look it, but he's a smart man.

"Sorry, dude, but you're gonna have to make your own lemonade. We're fresh out."

"Ah!" He huffs, waves a hand dismissively, and stomps away. "Gotta do everything 'round here."

The twin shoots the older man a reproachful look that makes Wendy want to slug him. It's not that she's biased- well, no. She _is_ biased. But she grew up with the first Stan. She works for the first Stan. Simply put, she respects him. And she's more than likely to take Stan's side over Ford's. So she's biased. Shoot her. She really doesn't care. "I'm sorry about my brother. He never really learned tact."

Tact? Please. Gravity Falls didn't have a need for something like tact. "Eh, no biggie." She shrugs. "S'just his way."

"I understand that." He grit his teeth noticeably. "I just hate when he does things like this; comes just to say he's not going to do anything."

Wendy scoffs. "Oh, please. He's helping. He just does it when he thinks no one's looking."

Soos, who's come to stand by her at some point, nods sagely. "That is the way of our Mr. Pines, Mr. Pines."

He looks doubtful, but doesn't press further. "I, ah, I'd really like to help. Honestly. I just need some measurements to work off of and I'll get to it."

If Dipper and Mabel were meant for Gravity Falls, then Ford was meant for- meant for _somewhere else_. He knows everything about the whole magic thing- he just never got the hang of the people. Wendy fixes him a politely blank look. "Dude, it's a house. Not one of those inventions you like to build. Just eyeball it. I can fix any mistakes. It's not a problem."

Sound advice from a lumberjack, if you ask her. The basement troll opens his mouth- probably to complain that it's not perfect that way- but Mabel prances up. Wendy grabs her arms affectionately. "Mabel, my girl! You didn't have to do this, you know? But thanks. It's awesome."

Mabel's smile somehow manages to get even brighter. "I couldn't just leave you alone on this one!" She lowers her voice- or, at least, tries too. Mabel's not the quietest girl out there. "I know your brothers drive you crazy." She says seriously. "I get it. I thought you could use a break."

That cinches it. She hates the second Stan even more now, because, unintentionally or not, he brought hurt her friend's way. Arguably, the almost-apocalypse was as much his fault as it was Mabel's. (Although, in the end, it was _all_ Cipher.)

Anybody willing to toss aside a girl as amazing as Mabel has issues, man. And she knows that Ford's been messed up time and time again, and Stan's been messed up time and time again, and they've messed _each other_ up here and there; but Stan learned. He saw the pattern. His brother either didn't see it or just didn't care, and had been willing to set his niece and nephew on the fast track to hating each other. As long as he got his apprentice, he didn't care what happened to his sister.

Not cool, man. Totally not cool.

In the end, Wendy ends up more or less following everybody around and fixing pretty much everything they touch, but she doesn't mind. It's all work she would've had to do anyway.

Stan sits in a lawn chair, drinks lemonade, and fixes some of the more glaring errors when he thinks no one will notice. Soos is Soos. A multitude of logs end up covered in glitter, rhinestones, stickers, and other pretty things. Dipper follows her following the others around because, while the smartest kid she knows, the boy doesn't have a clue how to build a house. Eventually she takes pity and lets him run to the library for a how-to book, which he and his mentor pour over in the corner. They could've just _asked_ \- it's not like she _doesn't_ build a house at least once a year or anything- but that's just Dipper's way. He prefers paper and notes to experienced words and an axe. That should probably be irritating, but it doesn't bother her.

Her brothers do their thing and stick to themselves. They seemed to be honestly weird-ed out by Wendy's taste in friends. Bonus.

* * *

"Dude, Wendy. There she is!"

Which one? Is her first thought. That sounds mean, but face it; Soos falls in love with pretty much every girl he see's. That's just his thing. He doesn't have a type so much as he has a limit to how many crushes he can have a week.

(Yes, he actually has a limit. He counts his crushes. He told her that once. It's almost sweet, in Soos sort of way.)

"Where?" She says instead, because it sounds nicer.

Soos points behind her, then remembers that pointing is rude and drops his hand. "Right behind you."

Wendy, already leaning back in her crappy food court chair, leans back further and stares at the people walking by upside down until she spots her. The hair extensions look seriously fake, her makeup doesn't suit her skin tone, and she's carrying what looks to be a fake sword from one of those anime cons Soos is always trying to get her to go to, but who is Wendy to judge? Her favorite color is _flannel_. 'Makeup' is a bigger bad word in her house than 'menstruation'. Heck, if she didn't like her hair flat and shiny, she'd probably just pull a Dipper and never brush it.

She's kinda cute, she supposes. Wendy drops the chair down and ignores that dizzying feeling one gets when one messes with blood flow. "I'd say... five out of ten."

Soos gives her a look like she kicked a puppy. "Five out of ten? That's only fifty percent! That's, like, an F."

"Hey, I judge by personality _and_ looks. You know that. I don't even know her _name_." Wendy gives the tiniest shrug known to man. "Who is she, anyway?"

"A tourist, I think."

"You think?"

He fiddles with his fingers, looking sheepish. "I, ah, I haven't exactly gotten around to talking to her yet."

"Dude."

"I'm going to, seriously! Someday. Really. I swear."

Wendy gives him a blank look. "Soos, what did we talk about?"

Soos slumps over a bit. "You can't get a girl to fall in love with you and date you and maybe even marry you and live happily ever after with you if you don't _talk_ to her."

"Right." Wendy leans back in her chair again and comfortably crosses her arms. "Just go talk to her, Soos."

"But I'm not good at talking to girls."

Wendy merely raises an eyebrow. Soos immediately begins to try and cover his bases. "Hey, that's different and you know it! You're like a cool sister, dude."

"Taking that as a compliment." She says, because she does. "Just go talk to her. If she _is_ a tourist, she could be gone by the end of the week. Do you want to let that happen without even saying hi?"

Soos stands up. "I'll be right back." He says, heading for the girl, who is confidently strutting away as they speak.

"Atta boy." Wendy hums, stealing a drink from Soos's soda.

Soos returns a few minutes later looking downtrodden. His cheek is an angry red color.

"So, how'd it go?"

"How do you think?" He asks glumly, slamming his head onto the table. Wendy feels bad for pushing it.

"I don't know. Wasn't listening. Privacy and all that." She pauses. "Did she..."

"Slap me?" Soos nodded. "Yup."

"What did you _say_?"

"I didn't _say_ anything. I just said 'hi', you know?"

"She smacked you for greeting her? Seesh." And they say the folks around here are weird.

"Yeah, dude. Yelled 'get away from me you ugly freak!', then hauled off and biffed me a good one."

"Ouch." Wendy winces in sympathy. "Sounds like she was having a bad day. A _really_ bad day."

"Yup."

"Don't get me wrong, she's still a jerk, but it sounds like a wrong place-wrong time anger blowup, you know?"

"Yeah, I guess so." He still doesn't sound comforted.

"Eh. Long distance relationships suck anyway."

"Hmm."

"Soos, dude. You okay?"

Soos slowly sits up. "Wendy, rate me."

Wendy almost falls out of her chair. " _What_?"

"You know, rate me. Like you do the girls I show you. Or the guys Mabel shows you."

" _Okay_. Why?"

"'Cause you're honest, _and_ you're a girl. I wanna know how girls see me, you dig?"

Well, crud. Wendy is a tad disconnected from the average girl's mind, she's pretty sure. The average girl doesn't rebuild their house once a year. They also don't go on life-endangering magical quests, either. "You sure you want _me_ to do this and not Mabel?"

He nods, face determined. "Do your worst, dude."

Wendy stares at him blankly a second. Soos stares back. Finally she cracks a smile and shrugs. "Eh. Eight out of ten."

"Seriously? Awesome!" He looks overjoyed for a second, then pauses suspiciously. "Wait a second. How many of those points are _personality_ points?"

Wendy hesitates a moment before shrugging. "Like, six?"

"Aw." Soos slumps, defeated.

"Hey, what do I know? I'm your coworker, dude. I'm not _supposed_ to find you attractive. You're one of the nicest people I know. If the girls don't 'dig' that, then they're not worth your time."

He looks at her uncertainly. "Really?"

"Duh. It's not about looks. It's about being an awesome person."

"Hey, yeah. You've got a point there." Soos sits up, then points at another girl that's caught his eye. "Hey, she looks really nice!"

Soos goes all doe-eyed again. Wendy's phone buzzes in her pocket. It's her brother, asking her to get off her lazy butt and help them with something seriously easy to do. They're looking for someone to play lumberjack while _they_ get a turn at being lazy, more or less.

Wendy honestly considers it, but Soos is having a ball pointing out his new crush of the hour, and she'd feel bad if she just got up and left. She sends them a quick text under the table to do it themselves and shuts her phone off.

* * *

Tyler The Cute Biker wants to learn how to carve, or so Manly Dan proclaims; and _he's_ going to be the one to teach him.

Wendy doesn't bother to bring up that _she's_ technically the best carver in the family. She doesn't mention that she could give him a quick crash course, or that her father would probably be of better use helping his sons and daughter chop down some trees. Dan and Tyler are, well, Dan and Tyler. It's hard to explain, and Wendy isn't interested in getting in their way. If they enjoy each others company, then whatever. Her dad is happy; isn't that what's important?

And since she _is_ the oldest, she's in charge, he continues. Here's some supplies and money for dinner- you know, if you're not _woman_ enough to catch something- tell the boys he loved them, bye.

Which is all fine and dandy, except Dipper suddenly calls her at ten o' clock that night (doesn't this kid have a bedtime?) frantically asking for her help. Long story short, he was studying a species of deer (a strange hybrid of magic and chemical mutation, he'd explained, sounding in awe) and the herd leader had welcomed him to a 'feast'. Dipper swore from that moment on that he would never become a vegetarian. A rival faction had suddenly burst in- no joke- and was now set on 'killing the emperor', and she knew how to wield an axe and fight, so, if she had time, could she _please_ come save his sorry behind?

Wendy puts on her war gear and sets off to save his sorry behind. Her brothers, used to her leaving at odd hours, don't even blink. They just tell her to grab something on the way back.

She gets the crud kicked out of her by a herd of semi-magical deer that doesn't belong in a B-rated horror movie, let alone real life. Wendy doesn't know whether to feel proud or mortified by this.

Another long story short, she notices an injured deer-mutant hit the dirt and jumps in to protect it. The jerk has the gall to _die_ while she's busy whacking things with the dull end of her axe. The emperor deer-thing graciously allows them to take the body home to study- something about it being a show of gratitude for her 'bravery in battle.'

It's _heavy_. Dipper's got some muscle on him now (Stan's been teaching them boxing to protect them from 'teenage hooligans.' Wendy doesn't have the heart to tell him they won't need it anytime soon. Besides, with a profession like this, Dipper and Mabel are gonna want all the fighting skills they can get.) but let's face it; the kid's always gonna have noodle arms. He tries, but Wendy's stuck doing most of the work.

"Sorry about all this." Dipper wheezes. Yes, wheezes. The kid is a nerd, through and through.

"Eh, no biggie. Just... try and give me a heads-up next time, okay?"

Dipper agrees. They get to talking about school- gee, that's a shocker, considering her present company- and dragging a giant deer isn't quite as bad compared to the horrors of high school.

"Do _you_ think I should've gone for private schooling?" He asks eventually. He's stopped trying to 'help.' It's easier to carry without the extra weight. "Great uncle Ford says that I won't be challenged enough."

Dipper's a flipping genius. The only thing that ever will challenge him is dragging deer-mutants through the woods in the middle of the night. And, hey, would you look at that; Wendy's got it covered.

"Take advanced classes."

"I _am_ taking advanced classes."

"Whelp." She pulls the thing over a particularly annoying rock. "You got me."

"Do you think it'll do me any good; going to public school? I mean, I want too; so Mabel and I can stick together, you know? But I don't know if I'm going to get anything out of it."

Wendy sighs. "Look, Dipper. Not gonna lie; Ford's a really smart dude. He could teach you more nerd stuff than any school teacher could dream up. But you know what the guy _can't_ teach you? Social stuff. Everyday life stuff. They try to pound that kind of thing into your head pretty much the entire time you're in high school. You'll learn plenty."

Dipper shifts uncomfortably, because the guy isn't good at going outside his comfort zone, which is kind of the point. He's going to need to learn how to thrive _outside_ of weird at some point. It's a life skill, especially if he ever plans on leaving Gravity Falls. "Hey, you think any 24-7 stores are open this late?"

"Well, they _are_ 24-7 stores..."

"Yeah, and titles lie. Heck, I don't think anything is even open this late around here. Gravity Falls is a haven for people afraid of the dark."

"Why do you need to go to the store, anyway?" He bit his lip and looks away, and it suddenly occurs to her that he might have assumed this could be a 'monthly' emergency. Man, if puberty is a roller coaster, then Dipper's gonna be that one kid who screams in terror the whole way through _and_ after.

"I'm supposed to be getting my bros dinner. 'S too late to go hunting now." Actually, she could probably scrounge something up if she wanted to. She's just too _tired_.

" _Oh_." Dipper doesn't say anything more than that. Stan probably needs to go shopping; it's around that time of the week. He probably ate the last of the food for dinner. (It's a silly thing to feel guilty about, but that's Dipper for you.) "Sorry."

"No biggie." Wendy spares the deer-mutant she's been dragging behind her a look, suddenly _very_ aware of the axe hanging around her waist. "Hey, Dipper. You think this thing's safe to eat?"

* * *

"Shut up, don't ask; just cook it and eat it."

Wendy left most of the remains to Dipper, because she knows the thing is an object of interest, and his mentor's going to have a heyday with it. She wouldn't have taken any of it if it hadn't been so late, but they. A girl's gotta eat.

"Whoa!" Her middle brother exclaims. "What _is_ that thing?"

"Dinner." She says curtly, sitting down. There's a nice fire going, and the tents are ready to be slept in. They'd obviously had time to get their own dinner, but judging by the hungry looks on their faces, they hadn't.

Wendy gets it. Dad said _she_ was in charge. Why go hunting when they had an older sister around to do it? They'd been raised to immediately rely on her when dad was out of the house; just like she had been raised to be their provider. It's kind of like a second job, only she doesn't get paid.

"Where did you even _get_ this?"

"You managed to _catch_ this thing without the shotgun?"

"Can we even eat something this freaky?"

"In order; none of your business; no, I didn't catch it; and I trust my sources."

Wendy lays down to take a nap with a full belly and bumps and bruises. Dipper, ever the wimp, was beaten up more than she was. Wendy has no room to moan and complain.

"Hey, sis?" The oldest brother asks. They're all lounging around the campfire. She's stretched out under the stars; the shadows cooling her skin.

"What?"

"Do you believe in magic?"

"Yup."

"Werewolves?"

" _Oh_ , yeah."

"Vampires?"

"Duh."

"Soul freckles?"

She could see a soul-stealer with a sick sense of humor masquerading as a ginger. "Probably."

" _Ooh_."

"Shut it."

"Unicorns?"

"Those things are jerks, man."

There was a pause. "You swore up and down that you didn't believe in those things."

"They exist. They suck." Wendy feels a rush of pride at the memory. She smiles in satisfaction. "I beat the crud out of a unicorn once."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. I got dragged along. Glad I was."

"Whatever." The oldest brother scoffs, but the middle and youngest boys are still interested.

"Is there anything you _don't_ believe in?"

"Hmm?" She hums, only half-awake.

"Well, you're the magical adventurer. Is there anything you _don't_ believe in?"

Wendy actually has to think about it. "Half-demons." She answers eventually, because no human, no matter what the deal, would have kids with a freaking triangle.

(What would a half-demon, half-triangle even look like? Would it be acute? Obtuse? Human but with sharp points jutting out of it at here and there? Weird.)

* * *

Call it weird, but Wendy's never been one for having her picture taken. Not with her family, anyway.

It's not that she doesn't like how she looks. Wendy is content and secure in her body (she just hates the hormones). But everyone in her family portraits look so psyched and excited over getting their faces plastered on another wall, but she just looks...there. Kind of eh. And everyone _loves_ to point it out when they see the photos.

The family photo is ruined. They all wear flannel- shocker- and the photographer uses a flannel background. It's perfect. Wendy starts to laugh just as the camera goes off.

* * *

"I call the room next to the bathroom."

"That's _my_ room." Wendy grunts, a moving box in arm. The house is finally finished. She wonders when it'll be destroyed again. A few months, tops. "I'm oldest- I _earned_ that room."

"But you hog the bathroom in the morning." He whines. The other two brothers nod in agreement.

"I have long hair. Long hair takes forever to dry and brush out. Deal with it."

"Can't you do that in your room or something?"

Wendy's learned from her mistakes. She knows that, if she _did_ do that, she's fair game for pranks. One bucket of whipped cream on her head just before she has to run out the door is plenty, thanks. "Nah."

Things are finally starting to get back to normal. Wendy's shoulders loosen, if only a little.

* * *

"Hey, sis?" The smallest brother cracks open her door. Wendy, busy lazing about on her freshly rebuilt bed, doesn't get up. "You awake?"

"I'm up. What's the matter; bad dream?"

The boy scoffs. He honestly seems to believe that he's past the age of crawling into a sibling's room for the night. Wendy, at the age of almost adulthood, missed when she was still allowed to use someone else as a human-emotion shield against the world.

"Okay, I'll bite. What's up?"

"Nothing." He flops back on the floor and stares up at the ceiling. Wendy stares with him, but it's too dark to actually see anything. "Sis?"

"Yup."

"What do you wanna be when you grow up?"

"Tall."

" _Sis_."

"Relax, would you? I never really thought about it. I like what I've got going on right now, you know?"

He nods, even though he probably doesn't. "You don't want a career- or, whatever?"

Wendy chuckles. "You're way too young to be saying 'whatever.' Seriously. And I _do_ have a career. I'm everybody's personal sounding board. I hear more gossip a day then you will your entire time in middle school."

"And you.. want to do that?"

"Eh." She shrugs. She _wants_ to sleep. Nobody _wants_ to be at the center of an almost-apocalypse and almost die every day delving deeper into a world of voodoo and magic. Unless you're Dipper. But Dipper's weird anyway. "It's my thing."

"Yeah? I wonder what my thing will be..."

"Lumberjacking, probably."

"I already _am_ a lumberjack."

"Yeah. But, like, full-time."

" _Oh_." He doesn't say anything for a moment. "Like dad?"

"Yup. Like dad. Only not like him. 'Cause you're you."

"I wouldn't mind being like dad." He says with a shrug. "Nobody messes with dad."

"True." Wendy isn't above admitting she's a bit of a daddy's girl. It seemed to be a common theme in a family with only one female. "But some people are scared of him."

"I don't know why. Dad's not scary. Dad's cool."

"Yeah, I guess." She'd been like that when she was younger, but her eyes have been opened as the years went by. She understands now why people are so freaked out when he stomps into a room. She just doesn't care.

"Dad's awesome, but I don't want people to be scared of me." He continues.

Wendy, who is of the firm opinion he's going to be the midget of the family, says; "Don't worry. You're not all that scary."

"I want to be tough like dad, but I want to be cool like you." The smallest brother proclaims. Wendy bit her lip.

Crud.

She had been like that once, had wanted to be chill and calm. And now she is chill and calm. And it wasn't the kind of life she'd hoped it would be. It kind of sucked, sometimes. But it was too late to change now.

"You're nice and people rely on you. They go to you when they need help and you help. Like the other day. You helped out your friend _and_ brought home dinner. That's cool."

...She's a bit old to become a completely different person, but _he_ isn't. Heck, his biggest concern at this point in his life was if he was going to catch any fish when they went on their annual father-sons fishing trip (Wendy always had to work, and instead 'caught' a box of frozen fish sticks). He didn't need everybody leaning on him and bugging him at weird hours of the night for magic stuff. Or apocalypse stuff. Or any of the stuff she had to do.

The way Wendy sees it, he has one of two possibilities. He ended up like the normal relaxed person- or he ended up like her. She doesn't want to take that chance and let things get out of hand.

"There's only one in every family." She says eventually, staring at the ceiling. "And the spot's already been filled. Wouldn't want to have to fight you for it."

 **Author's Note: This little foray out of the weirdmaggedan-hades is brought to you by that one fanfiction author who tends to try and avoid the current events rocking the fandom. =)**

 **As some of my followers might notice (if any of you have followed me into yet another fandom you may or may not know) I tend to write a story that's over 5,000 words every six months or so. This is that story.**

 **This is my first story in Gravity Falls. Gotta warn you; things are gonna be O.O.C. Please, criticize. Point out my mistakes. Tell me what I'm doing right/wrong. I want to learn. =)**

 **(I also tend to ramble a lot first story in a new fandom. I'm sure you've noticed that. =))**

 **(Also, I haven't proofread this yet, so there's probably a few obvious mistakes. I'll fix those.)**

 **Love Wendy. Thought I'd explore her character for a bit and see what I could do.**

 **No flames! Don't like don't read! Review!**


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